1987 television series endings:The Jetsons, The A-Team, Fraggle Rock, Star Cops, Visionaries: Knights of the Magical Light, Victoria Wood As Seen On TV, Hill Street Blues, Dinosaucers, The Centurions, Our World, Gimme a Break!, Pound Puppies, Remington Steele, Airwolf
This 50th anniversary collectible hardcover edition contains full guitar TAB transcriptions for 50 early Stones classics from their ABKCO years. These are all-new arrangements featuring the most accurate transcriptions for all of Keith Richard´s, Brian Jones´, and Mick Taylor´s legendary guitar parts. The book also comes with a section of the most classic Keith riffs. The songs within are selected from 12 x 5, Aftermath, Beggars Banquet, Between the Buttons, Big Hits (High Tide and Green Grass), December´s Children (and Everybody´s), Flowers, Hot Rocks 1964--1971, Let It Bleed, Metamorphosis, Sticky Fingers, Their Satanic Majesties Request, and more! Titles: 19th Nervous Breakdown 2000 Light Years from Home As Tears Go By Back Street Girl Bitch Brown Sugar Can´t You Hear Me Knocking Child of the Moon (rmk) Country Honk Dandelion Dead Flowers Dear Doctor Factory Girl Get Off of My Cloud Gimme Shelter Have You Seen Your Mother, Baby, Standing in the Shadow? Heart of Stone Honky Tonk Women I´m Free It´s All Over Now Jigsaw Puzzle Jumpin´ Jack Flash Lady Jane The Last Time Let It Bleed Let´s Spend the Night Together Live with Me Memo from Turner Midnight Rambler Monkey Man Mother´s Little Helper No Expectations Out of Time Paint It, Black Parachute Woman Play with Fire Ruby Tuesday Salt of the Earth (I Can´t Get No) Satisfaction She´s a Rainbow The Spider and the Fly Stray Cat Blues Street Fighting Man Stupid Girl Sway Sympathy for the Devil Under My Thumb Wild Horses You Can´t Always Get What You Want You Got the Silver.
There is a woman in the state of Nevada to whom I once lied continuously, consistently, and shamelessly, for the matter of a couple of hours. I dont want to apologize to her. Far be it from me. But I do want to explain. Unfortunately, I do not know her name, much less her present address. If her eyes should chance upon these lines, I hope she will write to me. It was in Reno, Nevada, in the summer of 1892. Also, it was fair-time, and the town was filled with petty crooks and tin-horns, to say nothing of a vast and hungry horde of hoboes. It was the hungry hoboes that made the town a hungry town. They battered the back doors of the homes of the citizens until the back doors became unresponsive. A hard town for scoffings, was what the hoboes called it at that time. I know that I missed many a meal, in spite of the fact that I could throw my feet with the next one when it came to slamming a gate for a poke-out or a set-down, or hitting for a light piece on the street. Why, I was so hard put in that town, one day, that I gave the porter the slip and invaded the private car of some itinerant millionnaire. The train started as I made the platform, and I headed for the aforesaid millionnaire with the porter one jump behind and reaching for me. It was a dead heat, for I reached the millionnaire at the same instant that the porter reached me. I had no time for formalities. Gimme a quarter to eat on, I blurted out. And as I live, that millionnaire dipped into his pocket and gave me ... just ... precisely ... a quarter. It is my conviction that he was so flabbergasted that he obeyed automatically, and it has been a matter of keen regret ever since, on my part, that I didnt ask him for a dollar. I know that Id have got it. I swung off the platform of that private car with the porter manoeuvering to kick me in the face. He missed me. One is at a terrible disadvantage when trying to swing off the lowest step of a car and not break his neck on the right of way, with, at the same time, an irate Ethiopian on the platform above trying to land him in the face with a number eleven. But I got the quarter! I got it! But to return to the woman to whom I so shamelessly lied. It was in the evening of my last day in Reno. I had been out to the race-track watching the ponies run, and had missed my dinner (i.e. the midday meal). I was hungry, and, furthermore, a committee of public safety had just been organized to rid the town of just such hungry mortals as I. Already a lot of my brother hoboes had been gathered in by John Law, and I could hear the sunny valleys of California calling to me over the cold crests of the Sierras. Two acts remained for me to perform before I shook the dust of Reno from my feet. One was to catch the blind baggage on the westbound overland that night. The other was first to get something to eat. Even youth will hesitate at an all-night ride, on an empty stomach, outside a train that is tearing the atmosphere through the snow-sheds, tunnels, and eternal snows of heaven-aspiring mountains. But that something to eat was a hard proposition. I was turned down at a dozen houses. Sometimes I received insulting remarks and was informed of the barred domicile that should be mine if I had my just deserts. The worst of it was that such assertions were only too true. That was why I was pulling west that night. John Law was abroad in the town, seeking eagerly for the hungry and homeless, for by such was his barred domicile tenanted. At other houses the doors were slammed in my face, cutting short my politely and humbly couched request for something to eat. At one house they did not open the door. I stood on the porch and knocked, and they looked out at me through the window. They even held one sturdy little boy aloft so that he could see over the shoulders of his elders the tramp who wasnt going to get anything to eat at their house.